Life's a Beach and Then... (The Liberty Sands Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

The water felt warm and soothing as it washed over her feet
and her stillness emboldened the shoals of tiny fish to swim closer to examine
them. Holly raised her gaze and squinted slightly, holding her hand up to
shield her eyes as she looked out towards the reef and beyond at the small
shapes that were the fishing boats. In her haste that morning she had forgotten
her sunglasses and her sun hat but fortunately she still had her Yankees cap
stuffed into the bottom of her beach bag and that was helping to lessen the
glare of the afternoon sun sparkling on the sea. She wondered which of the
boats was Billy’s and also whether Robert and Philippe had enjoyed a successful
morning fishing.

When they had waved the two men off earlier that day Holly
had promised a slightly apprehensive Robert that she would take good care of
his wife. I’m not sure burdening Rosemary with my life story and swearing her
to secrecy was quite what Robert had in mind, thought Holly guiltily.

Rosemary had been so drained after the morning’s revelations
that she had barely touched the fruit and cheese that Philippe had left out for
their lunch. After pushing the food around her plate for a while she had
claimed a headache and gone for a lie-down. Holly rinsed the lunch plates and
then knocked softly on the door of the spare room before pushing it open
slightly. Rosemary was lying on top of the white waffle bed cover. Her eyes
were closed and she didn’t stir, so Holly decided to let her rest and pulled
the door closed again.

She had no idea how long Rosemary would sleep so, rather
than wasting the opportunity to explore, she climbed down the wooden steps from
the verandah of the house and clambered over the dark volcanic rocks onto to
the stretch of beach at Tamarina Bay. From there she could see the spot where
she had walked to a couple of days earlier, before her path had been blocked by
the undergrowth. Beyond the view up the coast was uninterrupted and
spectacular, with soft white sands and clear blue water, just like it showed in
the holiday brochures. There’s certainly something magical about Mauritius, she
thought, or maybe it’s the people I’ve met that makes it feel that way.

She turned away from the sea to look up at the house just as
Rosemary walked out onto the verandah. Holly waved, trying to catch her
attention but Rosemary was looking out to sea in the direction of the fishing
boats. Holly was about to head back to the house but Rosemary had already begun
her descent of the wooden steps so she crossed the short expanse of sand and
sat on a rock to wait for her friend. It seemed impossible that she had
revealed so much about her life to a person she had met only a few days ago.
Rosemary now knew more about her than any other living person, even her son,
Holly realised. There had been no judgement of any of her actions just a calm
and compassionate understanding. When Rosemary had assured her that her
father’s death wasn’t her fault she had felt a huge weight lift from her
shoulders.

‘I didn’t recognise you in your baseball cap,’ called
Rosemary as she carefully picked her way across the black rocks, ‘but I thought
it must be you down here as I couldn’t think where else you would have gone.’

‘I hope you didn’t mind me leaving you,’ Holly said as
Rosemary approached. ‘You seemed so soundly asleep I thought I would come down
to the beach for a wander.’

‘Not at all,’ Rosemary said. ‘You weren’t to know it would
only be a cat nap. You probably needed a breath of fresh air after the morning
we’ve had.’

‘I don’t know what came over me,’ Holly admitted, extending
her hand to help Rosemary down from the rocks onto the warm soft sand. ‘I
normally keep myself to myself.’

‘Have you heard the expression, a problem shared is a
problem halved?’ asked Rosemary.

‘I have,’ said Holly, ‘but until today there was no one in
my life that I felt I could trust enough to share my problems with. I’m sorry,’
she added, looking up at the older woman whose very presence made her feel
calm.

‘Don’t be sorry,’ Rosemary said. ‘I’m honoured to be the
person you felt you could open up to. If I had a daughter at the age you were
when you gave birth to Harry she would be your age now. I would want her to
come to me with her problems not keep them hidden away. I’m not judging your
mum, Holly, she obviously has issues of her own and to lose her husband so soon
after choosing to disown you she must have been in a very dark place when she
said those awful things to you at your dad’s funeral.’ Rosemary paused and
linked her arm through Holly’s as they started to walk back towards the
shoreline. ‘But I can’t understand or condone what she did either. Nobody goes
through life without making mistakes and unless you learn from them and share
what you have learned with others you care about, the same mistakes will be
repeated again and again.’

They had reached the water’s edge and both women slipped
their feet out of their sandals and continued into the shallow warm sea until
it covered their feet.

‘This is one of my favourite things to do,’ said Holly,
wiggling her toes in the sand, causing underwater clouds.

‘And mine,’ said Rosemary. ‘This and watching the sun set
into the water.’

‘Me too.’

A tear escaped from the corner of Holly’s eye which she
quickly brushed away. She had learned a long time ago not to ask the question,
‘Why me?’ when bad things happened and had replaced it with the more positive,
‘Why not me?’ Something wonderful was happening to Holly on this paradise
island and for once she was able to ask the question, ‘Why not me?’ about
something good.

The two women walked along the beach chatting about
everything from their favourite colour to their taste in music. They discovered
that neither of them was a fan of jazz but they both loved power ballads and
some classical music could reduce them to tears. Neither was particularly
interested in sport although both had loved cheering Team GB on in the previous
year’s Olympic Games held in London. Holly admitted that she had never seen a
West End musical because she had never had the money or a companion to go with.
Rosemary said they would have to put that right when she and Robert returned to
the UK after their extended stay in Mauritius. Holly had then asked how long
they were planning to stay but Rosemary’s answer had been non-committal.

‘You are lucky,’ Holly said. ‘I would love to be able to
stay somewhere like this forever. I love the fresh smell and the warmth of the
sun on my skin. I guess I’m a bit of a beach bum at heart,’ she confessed,
‘which is why I couldn’t believe my luck when I got this job working for Soleil
Resorts.’

‘How did you get the job?’ Rosemary enquired, intrigued to
know how a charity worker from Reading had become a blog writer for one of the
top hotel groups in the world.

‘It was all a massive stroke of luck actually,’ Holly
admitted. She explained how Harry had been saving his paper round money for
years and also the tips from his bar job during his first year in university,
to take himself and his mum on their first proper holiday. She was so thrilled
by the experience that at the end of every day she had written a lengthy entry
in her diary. On the plane on the way home she had read it out to Harry as a
reminiscence of the wonderful holiday they had just had together. When they got
home Harry, without telling his mum, had found a blog-hosting website and had
posted all her diary entries over the period of a week. The response to her
‘warts and all’ account had been incredible, with over 50,000 views, and dozens
of comments left suggesting that she should do it again from a different destination.
Harry had suggested approaching Soleil Resorts and they loved the idea, seeing
it as a fairly inexpensive way of gaining publicity and also a way to keep an
eye on the quality of service without a resort knowing they were being checked
up on.

‘It sounds like your Harry is a very bright boy, recognising
a gap in the market. What does he do for a living?’ she asked.

‘He’s in his second year at university,’ Holly said, and
then added before Rosemary asked the inevitable question, ‘he’s studying to be
an architect.’

Rosemary stopped in her tracks. ‘So that was what you almost
let slip at dinner the other night when I told you that Robert was an
architect.’

‘Yes,’ said Holly, ‘I nearly blew my cover story on the
first evening with you and Robert because I am such a proud mother. You can’t
say anything to Robert though,’ she added, panicking slightly.

‘I won’t say a word,’ Rosemary reassured her. ‘So does your
blog have a title?’

‘It’s called Life’s a Beach. It’s a sort of play on words.
You know the saying “life’s a bitch and then you die”?,’ Holly explained.

‘Yes I know the saying,’ Rosemary said. ‘You know all this
walking has made me peckish,’ she said, quickening her pace as she headed
towards the house. ‘Was their any fruit and cheese left from lunch?’

That’s an odd reaction to my blog title, thought Holly as
she followed her across the sand. She could have just said she didn’t like it.

All that was left of the watermelon was a pile of black seeds
on Holly’s plate. She didn’t normally bother with watermelon as it was usually
quite tasteless, but this had been a delight for her taste buds. Along with the
locally grown pineapple it had made a very tasty afternoon snack and was much
healthier than the cup of milky coffee with a couple of chocolate digestives
Holly would have had at this time of day back home. The two women were sitting
on the sofa on the verandah in the shade, even though the ferocity of the
midday sun had long since passed.

Rosemary had been quiet since they had returned to the house
despite Holly’s best efforts at conversation. Holly was trying to think if she
had inadvertently said anything to upset the older woman. She didn’t think so
but Rosemary had been acting strangely ever since she had mentioned the title
of her blog.

‘Do you think I should call it something else?’ Holly
ventured.

Rosemary looked bewildered.

‘The blog,’ Holly clarified. ‘Do you not think it’s a good
title?’

‘I like the title,’ Rosemary said. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Well you seem to have gone all quiet on me since I
mentioned it,’ Holly said, looking puzzled. ‘It’s not because I told you
Harry’s studying architecture, is it? You don’t think I’ve made friends with
you so that I can make use of Robert’s contacts do you?’ she asked, feeling
mortified.

‘Hardly, Holly, particularly as I am under strict
instructions not to mention any of your story to my husband!’ Rosemary replied,
managing a weak smile.

‘So what’s wrong then?’ Holly persisted. ‘It must be
something I’ve said.’

Rosemary sighed. ‘In a way it is, although there’s no way
you could have known how close to home your “life’s a bitch and then you die”
comment was.’

‘There is no easy way to tell you this Holly and now it’s my
turn to swear you to secrecy. No one knows what I’m about to tell you, not my
closest friends back home, not Philippe, no one, and I need it to stay that
way. Can you keep a secret?’

Holly had a dreadful sense of foreboding and her mouth went
suddenly dry, preventing her from speaking so she simply nodded her head.

‘I’m sick, Holly,’ Rosemary said gently. ‘Very sick.’

Holly could hear her own voice coming from a long way away
as she started to say, ‘W-what’s wrong...’ but before she could finish her
sentence Rosemary had raised her hands to stop her speaking.

‘In fact, it would be more accurate to say I’m dying.’

‘Nooooooo!’ Holly let out an anguished cry, like a wounded
animal. Her head was spinning and her heart was thundering. For a moment she
thought she might faint. She felt Rosemary put her arm around her to comfort
her but selfishly she pushed her away. ‘No,’ she said again. ‘You can’t leave
me, it’s not fair.’

Even to her own ears she could hear the childishness of the
statement but she couldn’t stop now. ‘Maybe it’s a mistake,’ she rambled, ‘have
you had a second opinion? You can’t leave me, I’ve only just found you... I
need you,’ she blurted out, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

Rosemary reached out again and this time Holly didn’t push
her away she clung to her like a frightened child who was having a nightmare.

As Holly’s breathing began to even out she asked in a very
small voice, ‘Are you absolutely sure nothing can be done?’

Rosemary was very calm as she explained to Holly about her
leukaemia, resigned to the inevitable consequence that her lack of response to
the various treatment drugs had brought about.

‘How can you be so calm about it?’ Holly asked. ‘Aren’t you
angry or frightened?’

Rosemary was quiet for a moment looking out to the distant
horizon before she answered. ‘Maybe I was at first, but I soon realised that
there is no point being angry, Holly, it doesn’t solve anything, as I’m sure
your mum has found out. I suppose I am still a little frightened but mostly I’m
overwhelmingly sad that, after taking so long to find my soul mate, I’m going
to leave him alone.’

Holly had seen how close they were and wondered how on earth
Robert would cope with losing this incredibly courageous woman.

After a few moments Rosemary took Holly’s face in her hands
and looked straight into her olive green eyes. ‘If I’ve learned anything from this
life it’s that if you have a chance of happiness you need to take it. It may
not always turn out the way you hope it will but if you don’t seize your
opportunities all you will be left with is regret for what might have been.’

Holly chose to ignore the obvious reference to her blossoming
romance with Philippe. ‘How long do you have?’ she asked, not really wanting to
hear the answer.